


connor vores gauze unironically

by twinkshish



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (its not actually vore im so sorry if youre into that), Connor licking things, Dubious Medical Practices, Father-Son Relationship, Gauze, Gen, Humor, Some Plot, but its only there to set up the vore lol, do with that what you will, eyes emoji, i did the math and 2 percent of this fic is hank saying fuck, is this a vore fic? our sources say yes, its not gory tho, lowkey based on real events, rated for descriptions of a crime scene, that really should not be licked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkshish/pseuds/twinkshish
Summary: Connor needs to stop putting things in his mouth, for the sake of Hank's sanity.





	connor vores gauze unironically

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sharcade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharcade/gifts).



“Connor, what the _fuck_.”

 

Sometimes, Hank wonders if he should charge hourly, for being the literal fucking _handler_ of an extremely dangerous, intelligent, technologically advanced _man-child—_ who is currently licking a blood stain off the fucking _wall_. The android in question glares at him petulantly, with all the force of a small and angry Pomeranian, and drags his tongue over the spot once more without breaking eye contact. Hank groans, “ _Jesus_ , Connor,” dragging his hand over his face as Connor smirks up at him, that little shit.

 

“Lieutenant, if it bothers you so much you may look away,” Connor says dryly, a far-off look on his face as his LED spins yellow. The crime scene is certainly a strange one; four victims, all killed with a different weapon. Debris from broken furniture is littered throughout the whole apartment, and neither of them can take a step without glass crunching underfoot. Yet there’s no signs of forced entry, and nobody from the surrounding rooms had filed a noise complaint. The scene had been called in by one of the victim’s parents, several hours after the estimated time of death...

 

Ah, there goes Connor again.  _Blink and you’ll miss the whole damn investigation_ , Hank thinks to himself wryly. The kid processes things faster than anything he’s ever seen, something that still makes his head swim even after nearly a year of working with him. It’s something he’s been able to appreciate even more after the revolution; before, Connor calculated his every move and decision, but now even his detective work has a more spontaneous, _human_ flair to it that makes him even more formidable— _aaaaaand so much more unpredictable_ . Hank finds himself flailing to catch up with Connor, who has, for lack of a better term, power-walked the _fuck_ out of the room. Damn the RK models and their fucking shoujo legs...

 

“Connor, _slow down_ , you can’t just run off like that—” Hank wheezes, doubling over to catch his breath. He looks up to find Connor (yay!) with a blood-soaked knife (oh shit). A small part of him wants to shout _hoe don’t do it_ (which he will never admit to—ever—what the fuck) as Connor raises the knife to his mouth and _oh my god_.

 

This is going to be a long _fucking_ day.

 

* * *

 

Hank’s got the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip, grinding his teeth almost audibly as they putter ( _putter_ , the _i_ _ndignity_ ) down the traffic-clogged highway. He breathes narrowly, slowly through his teeth, and glares at Connor—spiritually, he’s still got his eyes on the road.

 

Drive safely, kids. Even when you’re about to commit a fucking homicide.

 

(Would killing an android be homicide?)

 

Hank ponders this for the briefest of moments, before Connor tentatively pipes up beside him.

 

“...I did solve the case, you know,” he whines (oh my god), expect it comes out more like a squeaky _mmph_ , thanks to the hunk of gauze shoved unceremoniously into his mouth by an overprotective—ahem, _concerned_ lieutenant. Of course, said lieutenant doesn’t understand a fucking word.

 

“You can’t just _run off_ like that,” Hank growls, eliciting another indignant whine from his partner, “and you _especially_ can’t run off to pull dumb shit!” He groans, pinching his nose bridge. “Why, in the actual _fuck_ , would you put the knife in your mouth?”

 

Connor huffs, _mm_ -ing angrily, and crosses his arms, pouting.

 

“I don’t even want to hear it,” Hank snaps back. “I don’t give a shit if that’s how you analyze things, don’t stick sharp objects in your mouth! God, you’re an actual fucking child.”

 

The kid lives up to that entirely by flipping him off, and Hank has to physically restrain himself from stooping to the same level.

 

_I’m the adult. I’m the adult. I’m the adult…_

 

He takes a deep breath to calm himself down, grip loosening slightly. He’s got to approach this _calmly_ (parenting-for-dummies-dot-com had said so)...

 

“Kid, just tell me what the _hell_ —er, what you were thinking.”

 

Connor whines and _mmphs_ emphatically, gesturing dramatically, and of course Hank can’t understand any of it. The android scowls, getting more frustrated by the second, and it’s Dad Time™, gotta diffuse this situation…

 

Connor _swallows_.

 

“Oh, that’s better,” he muses to himself. “As I was saying—”

  
Hank nearly crashes the _fucking_ car.

**Author's Note:**

> lol im so sorry.
> 
> if youre wondering abt the crime, all the victims killed each other in some sort of epic free for all


End file.
